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My eyes are definitely playing tricks on me, or my brain is even more fucked up than I thought, but it looks like a person lying there. I raise my scope to eye level so I can get a better look and sure as shit, there is a woman laying face down on the dirt and rocks, “What the fuck?”
She’s lying face down, but I watch as she slowly lifts her head, her eyes trained on the river. Then she whips her head to the side to look back over her shoulder. I follow her line of sight through my scope. Standing right behind her, on the edge of the tree line, is a man with a revolver pointed right at her. What the hell is going on?
With no time to ask questions, I don’t hesitate, aiming and firing my weapon before he can fire his.
POW!
It’s a long shot, and I didn’t have time to assess how the distance would mess with the trajectory. Regardless, I hit my mark on his right shoulder, not center mass, but it will do.
Keeping him in my line of sight, I watch as he drops the gun and stumbles back in between the trees. I can’t see him anymore, but I know the gun’s still lying on the ground. I glance back toward the woman, but she’s not lying in the same spot. I look up from my scope and see that she’s wading through the river, her hands raised above the water, bound together by something. “Come on lady, just get across the river and over that ridge before the bastard goes for his gun again,” I mumble to myself.
If she makes it up and over the rocky incline to get to the tall grass she’ll be hidden enough and it will give me a chance to help her. I scan the tree line, waiting to see if the man who had the gun has given up or not. A couple yards away from where the gun is laying I see a shorter man stumble out through the trees, blood covering his face. I don’t see him holding any weapons, but it directs my attention away from the first guy for two seconds too long. The initial guy retrieved the gun and took cover back behind a tree. Dammit!
Initially, I’m not sure if the second man is a victim or not, but then he starts picking up rocks and chucking them into the river at the woman. That’s enough indication for me to aim in his direction and fire another shot, POW!
Not waiting to see if it was a kill shot, I pivot back to check the first guy’s location. A faint screech is carried through the air so I’m guessing guy number two is at least injured. I pop my left eye open to gauge how far the woman has made it across the river.
She’s climbing the rocks now. I only have to hold these guys off for ten more seconds to give her a chance. Once she crests the hill, I’ll have time to run to her before the men can cross the river after her. They won’t have a shot since they’ll have the low ground.
Everything happens at warp speed. The first guy raises his gun from the tree line, the gun being the only thing visible, and he fires it at her. I aim exactly where I think he is standing and blindly shoot into the trees, hoping I hit some part of him.
Almost all at once it’s the “POP!” of his shot, then “POW!” of mine, right before the woman’s scream echoes through the valley.
Looking up from my scope, I can barely see her body because of the grass, but she is lying face down at the top of the ridge. She doesn’t move, but I do. I don’t know if the gunman hit her or not, but I’m not waiting to find out. I have to make it to her before they do.
Chapter Five
Callie
I can’t move. My head is telling me to get up and run, but my body isn’t listening. I’m shivering from head to toe. My thoughts are jumbled and I’m struggling to register what just happened. I was shot at multiple times, ran through freezing cold water, and somehow managed to use the last bit of energy in my body to face plant into this tall grass. One shot was so close to hitting me, that I swear I felt the bullet zip past my head.
Breathe, just breathe, I think to myself. I need to move, I need to keep going. I’m not safe, I’m not safe. The mantra in my head isn’t helping, my limbs won’t respond, and my adrenaline’s been depleted. All I can manage to do is lay here and play dead. Except it might not be an act for long, minutes pass and I still can’t make my body move. These might be my final moments, and nothing of great importance seems to be crossing my mind. All I can focus on is the earthy smell of the grass on my face, and the coolness of the ground against my cheek.
Faintly, my ears pick up a noise past the sound of my own ragged breathing. I hear the weight of something -no, someone- landing heavily in the grass beside me with a thump!
This is it, they’ve caught me. They’re going to take turns raping me if they don’t kill me first. I hardly have the nerve, but I flop my head to the side, needing to see what’s in store for me, preparing myself to come face to face with a gun. Instead, I look into the face of a man I’ve never seen before. His cool, gray eyes stare at me intently, but I’m too exhausted to even act startled. All I can register is that he’s not one of them. Not Tony, not Bub.
It takes me a second to realize his mouth is moving, that he’s saying something. “Are you okay? Were you shot?” He stops focusing on my face momentarily, his eyes bouncing back and forth between me and the river below us.
“I don’t know,” is all I can manage as a mumbled response.
Wait, was I shot? I remember the blast of bullets, one ricocheting too close to me as I ran, but no pain. I mean, I’m definitely in pain, but not how I would be if I was shot.
However, I don’t say anything else to him, I don’t know this man and he could be just as dangerous as the other two. Again, my brain is telling me to flee, but I’m in total muscle failure.
“Can you move? We need to get away from the edge of the river bank. It’s not safe,” he says to me, eyeing me cautiously, like he’s trying to figure me out too.
Duh, obviously it’s not safe, but I don’t say that. He seems like he is trying to help. For the time being, I decide to go along with it, not that I have any other choice.
“I don’t think I can run anymore,” I admit with a croak in my voice. “I’m so tired.”
“That’s okay, I don’t need you to run, I need you to stay low and crawl over behind that fallen tree.” I barely shift my attention as he points at a tree that’s lying on its side about 10 yards ahead of me, too focused on how calm his gravelly voice is.
I nod my head in acknowledgment, not trusting my voice, and try to raise my chest off the ground with shaky arms. My movements are stunted by my bound wrists and I collapse back to the ground.
“Wait,” he says, and I look back over at him to see a knife in his hands. I cringe away seeing the blade so close to me. Maybe I read this guy all wrong.
He instantly notices my startled expression, raising his hands in a way that indicates he doesn’t intend to hurt me. “I can cut your wrists free so it’s easier to crawl.”
